


Absence

by junxouji



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: ALS, Angst, Art, Chronic Illness, Cliffs of Insanity, EXO - Freeform, Fluff and Smut, Insanity, Love, M/M, Modeling, Nude Modeling, Romance, Stars, i don't know what to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 05:01:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2256756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junxouji/pseuds/junxouji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junmyeon didn’t like colors— his wardrobe consisted mainly of dull grays, off whites that never seemed white enough, blacks that grayed over time and shades of fabrics in between. He had never really been a fan of color. (Though it was a age old argument if black and white were considered colors.) He wanted to float through life not being noticed; he was dying anyway. The dull and uninspiring look suited him. He supposed artists were suppose to have a drop of creativity and he truly did— all the creativity was poured into his artwork leaving nothing leftover for his personality or tastes.</p><p>Junmyeon works as an artist, painting pictures of people. Because when the world was ugly what better way to offset equilibrium than to create beauty? He’s twenty-five. Junmyeon can be witty and callous— though gentleness in his nature. Dreaming is his illness, he often says. He’s a bit broken but stronger than he appears. Junmyeon always knew he was going to get the genetic disorder his mother died of, and the irony here is that he can never escape from the fear he has towards the future when the darkness comes to rob him of the life he has always known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absence

**Author's Note:**

> Not accurate at all in regards to the medical terminology & information. You can find out more at ALS.ORG

 

His eyes always fluttered shut, the icy kisses on too warm skin in the beach house the taste of seawater in their mouths, leaving behind a significant, lingering numb feeling. The sun is going down and there is this gaze that makes Junmyeon blink many times, a mix of black, purple, yellow and red, reflected on the calm waters as the sun sets slowly. He tenses at this part-- though Jongin is careful to massage his tense shoulders. Every second passing is leading Junmyeon towards the trap the darkness hides, and already he is already feeling the fear creep up his body as the day’s end threatens the inevitability of him losing the ability to do-- from walking, feeding himself, talking, touching Jongin’s face, from doing anything. He dreads the idea of growing older, becoming closer to the impending doom with no cure.

Junmyeon always knew he was going to get the genetic disorder his mother died of, and the irony here is that he can never escape from the fear he has towards the future when the darkness comes to rob him of the life he has always known.

Each night mirrors the previous one, Junmyeon doesn’t know it yet, but everyday for the rest of forever he will feel the same paralyzing fear that ultimate will confine him to a bed.

It’s like dying yet being alive. He will be dying as he is awake-- suffer in silence because he won’t be able to fight it. He will lose the ability to do everything yet his mind will stay perfectly intact and that’s what scares him. Couldn’t he simply be spared and lose his mind as well? Being sane and suffering in his body? That seemed too cruel. Even for fate.

In a way, Junmyeon hates Jongin more than he hates himself. Because now, he says he will always be there. But in the end, Jongin deserves someone who can hold him back and won’t be a burden-- he hates him more because he’s scared Jongin really might leave him.

He felt Jongin’s fingers trace down his spine and pressed chilly kisses on each knot of his spine poking from his back. He purred under the touch,

“You’re distracted.” Jongin mumbled, “What has you so distracted you cannot pay attention to your very horny lover?” Jongin asked in an accusing tone, peppering those sweet kisses against the pale skin.

Junmyeon was gorgeous in every way a Korean man ought to be. He had this dewy porcelain skin Jongin loved to taste. It was soft, blemish free except for a light honey brown birthmark on his thigh Jongin took pride knowing where it was. He had gorgeous gentle eyes and thin pink lips. He had soft blonde hair that made him get too many stares from strangers that always irked Jongin to act possessively. Junmyeon had a soft voice but wasn’t a pushover.

Junmyeon was like hazel-- he was elegant, swan-like, and the type of lover you suspected of tasting like honey. Jongin figured Junmyeon was a rosewood and honey type of guy. A romance kind of guy. A spend-the-night-making-love-on-the-beach kind of guy. And he was.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Junmyeon asked as he laid on his stomach, burying his face slightly into the pillow.

“I think about it and how lucky I am everyday.” Jongin admitted. “I was pretty sure I was crazy-- because when I saw you I  was sure I had fallen in love. I never knew I was lonely until I saw your face.”

“Shut up.” Junmyeon says though he was smiling. Jongin had been a runaway at sixteen trying to make a living posing nude for Junmyeon’s university art class. Junmyeon had adored drawing the boy’s curves, sketching in his high cheek bones, or his dark eyes that always seemed trained on Junmyeon. Because when the world was ugly what better way to offset equilibrium than to create beauty? Jongin was a ounce of beauty.

“I remember. I remember you being so appalled at my age you not only rejected me when I asked you out but helped me find a job that didn’t require me to be naked.” Jongin muttered. “You don’t know how much I owe you.”

In debt to love, Junmyeon mused bitterly. Love was a tiring business. In their small home that smelled of salt water and sunshine Junmyeon wondered how long they would be like this. Time was a cruel mistress. It was stealing his time from him, it wasn’t dying that Junmyeon had fearful. Because he was strangely comfortable with the idea of death. But it was the way he was going to die. ALS was brutal. He often reminded Jongin, if he stayed, what he was bound to see. He had seen his mother go through it and it was humiliating. As the illness grew you slowly lost the ability to do things. Eventually as the nerves died away, he wouldn’t be able to do the most trivial things. And eventually it would kill him. His mother had always cried until she couldn’t even do that.

He was only twenty-four. How much longer would he have? His mother had died at forty. Would he have twenty years? Twenty years with Jongin didn’t seem like nearly long enough. Junmyeon wanted to grow old, become a old man with Jongin.

He turned to his side brushing Jongin away. “I’m not in the mood.”

Jongin frowned. Sometimes Junmyeon was like this. Moody. Bitter. He knew why but at the same time didn’t fully understand. Junmyeon was still healthy right now. They had a lot to be thankful for. They had a nice home on the beachshore, they had eachother, and Jongin wouldn’t ever leave him. Junmyeon was sunlight-- he brightened up his life with little rays of light, bouncing off objects and blinding Jongin to anyone else.

Junmyeon didn’t see his own beauty. It wasn’t just his apperance  though Jongin was sure he was dating the most beautiful man there was. Slightly smaller than him and shorter-- he was lovable. His personality always made Jongin smile. Junmyeon was really kind. He was sweet and compassionate. He was patient, never short tempered, and always understanding. There were moments when Junmyeon would become stubborn but he usually came around.

Jongin knew the other tortured himself a lot. Junmyeon was scared and Jongin was too-- he was going to lose the love of his life, of course he was fucking scared. He was scared shitless at the idea of one day waking up to Junmyeon not being there. He was scared one day Junmyeon wouldn’t be able to walk, he would not be able to speak-- he was so scared he felt numb with fear. His chest got heavy and he wanted to choke on the invisible ropes around his neck but instead he smiled. Because Junmyeon needed him to be strong.

He had to be.

He sighed softly as he pressed a light kiss to Junmyeon’s shoulder. He gently took Junmyeon’s shoulder and turned him so he was facing him. Junmyeon’s eyes were squeezed close as if to hold the tears in-- because he never allowed himself to cry in front of anyone else. His fingers brushed Junmyeon’s cheek softly. “Love,” he kissed Junmyeon’s parted lips softly, “Won’t you look at me?”

Junmyeon shook his head, instead burying his face into Jongin’s chest. Jongin was so sweet, so kind, so patient--  more than he deserved. In all reality, when Junmyeon first met Jongin in that art class no one had known the tall, tan, male who seemed to be scuplted out of some God’s personal stash of clay all the girls had flocked to Jongin. They flocked to him like flowers leaned towards the sun. Junmyeon had been interested as anyone would be in a handsome male who you got to see naked daily. But Junmyeon was a realist and there was no way Jongin would notice him much less accept his advances. Except he did. Jongin asked him out for coffee and they hit it off.

He was apalled to find he was only sixteen. But Junmyeon had the time had been nineteen so it wasn’t too bad of a age difference. Now twenty-four with his twenty-one year old lover Junmyeon wondered how he had lucked out. Even his friends remarked on how “if they were gay, they would totally go for Jongin” always receiving glares from Junmyeon.

Maybe if Junmyeon agreed to a open relationship Jongin would stay with him even when things got bad. That would be fair, right? Someone else could satisfy what Junmyeon couldn’t… and he got to keep Jongin’s presence.

He felt his lover’s kisses leave his lips and head to his neck, attentively licking the pale skin. Jongin knew his body better than anyone else. He knew where to touch, to feel, to press a kiss to-- he knew it so well. He mewled when Jongin sucked on his collar bone knowing his sensitive spots so well from years of practice.

 

Their first time had been a awkward mess. They had lived together for a while. Junmyeon had invited Jongin who had been homeless at the time to live with him. He told him he could take the guest bedroom in the house which had been left to him after his mother’s death. Jongin didn’t have to pay rent and Junmyeon just asked he stay as long as he needed. Well, granted Jongin never left, not that Junmyeon minded. However once they started dating and Jongin got a job as a model he said he wanted to pay rent to feel like he wasn’t a burden.

Their relationship took a turn after Jongin asked him out. He admitted to his feelings in a boyishly cute manner. They had went out on a date to a art gallery Junmyeon was dying to see and afterwards had dinner on the beach by the house. They made love on the sand.

Jongin’s hands had been clumsy and shaking. He kissed as he unbutton’s Junmyeon’s shirt the only light was the moon reflecting on the ocean water.

“Don’t be so nervous.” Junmyeon chuckled against his lips.

“I c-can’t help it. I’ve been dying to touch you. It’s just-- so much excitement.” Jongin said as he tugged Junmyeon’s shirt off, the older of the two with his back pressed against the warm sand. He could feel the low tide tickling his feet with the coldness.

His eyes turned into happy cresants as his arms wrapped securely around Jongin’s neck to bring his face down to his own. He kissed him hard not the usual sweet kisses Junmyeon gave. The pretty male kissed the tan male with every inch of passion he had been holding in. Jongin was thrilled to find out he wasn’t the only one excited.

Once Jongin got over his boyish shyness, Junmyeon was withering underneath him. Jongin pressed hot open mouth kisses along his cheek, his boney chest, nipping the pink rose buds making Junmyeon arch towards his mouth. Junmyeon felt Jongin’s hands slip underneath his pants and underwear gripping the globes of his ass. He pants slid down, then his underwear and he was completely naked under the other.

Jongin leaned back some stopping his assualt for a second to glance over Junmyeon’s body. The moon’s glow did Junmyeon justice. His pale, small, and petite body was gorgeous. Soft in all the right places and hard in unexpected places.

Jongin had pressed his fingers against Junmyeon’s mouth and the older man took them in his mouth, wetting the slender digits. A normal couple would have been worried about people finding them on the beach but no one ever came at this time of night-- no one came to the part of the beach directly behind Junmyeon’s house.

Jongin pulled his fingers from his mouth and traced the salvia coated fingers across Junmyeon’s plush lips. His hands traveled between Junmyeon’s thighs and suddenly a blanket of rosey pink spread across Junmyeon’s cheeks.

“I’ve never done this.” Junmyeon said quickly, “So please, just.. p-prepare me thoroughly.” He muttered quietly.

Jongin kissed his lips lightly. “Of course.”

 

They both woke up the next morning in bed but with sand in their hair and Junmyeon’s body was sore in places it never had been before. He rolls over and kisses Jongin’s forehead.

 

Junmyeon had always been upfront about his disorder. If Jongin wanted to leave, he could have left long ago. But he’s in love with the painter. It wasn’t always Jongin’s goal to be a model. He only found the desire when Junmyeon used him as his muse. And suddenly Jongin wanted to be a centerpeice of beauty. He enjoyed the way Junmyeon’s admiring eyes would follow his body or how supportive his lover was when Jongin did shots for fashion designers. Junmyeon had been jealous at first when Jongin branched to other artists-- photographers, painters, designers.. Junmyeon may have appeared sweet and gentle but he was a possessive lover.

“I don’t want him gawking at you.” Junmyeon complained quietly, hand working around Jongin’s waist one night at a party for a popular fashion designer who was uing Jongin as the main model to promote his new clothing line.  He didn’t trust the way Kyungsoo’s eyes followed Jongin like a hawk.

“You act like I can be stolen.” Jongin murmured slightly with a teasing tone as he pecked Junmyeon’s lips chastely. “You pay for everything already. This job can help me support you.”

“You don’t have to help me by selling yourself to him!” Junmyeon said more desperate. “He’s looking for anyway to get his greedy hands on you. Do you want me to sit by and watch? You always scare away any guy who even thinks about looking at me. I can’t do the same?

“It’s not the same Jun!” Jongin said, “You don’t know when someone is hitting on you. You’re completely obvilious.”

Junmyeon scoffed. It was worse when during their small argument Kyungsoo came towards them when they were scabbling with a few of his friends.

“And this is my inspiration!” Kyungsoo said in greeting. The two were caught off gaurd as Kyngsoo came nearer. “Meet Jongin everyone. Isn’t he brillant?”

Jongin was charming and he was admirable-- Junmyeon didn’t blame them all for liking Jongin. But his eyes narrowed when Kyungsoo laughed at something, squeezing Jongin’s upper arm. Kyungsoo’s eyes met Junmyeon in a challegning manner as he smirked.

Junmyeon wasn’t a aggressive man but he would damned if someone touched something that was his.

Junmyeon gritted his teeth and smiled-- his smile anything less than friendly. Jongin was his charming model boyfriend, this was bound to happen. He let out a sigh of relief when they were alone again. He pulled Jongin near, hugging his arms around him.  
“Love you.” He whispered quietly and felt Jongin’s lips on his hair. Jongin smiled.  
“Love you too.”  
  
Junmyeon had a lot of meltdowns. Granted, he was dying. He supposed he was entitled to the tantrums, the fits, the moments of sparked insanity. He threw the painting down, angry it was messed up, feeling like the weight of the world was on his fucking shoulders.  
He couldn’t keep doing this. One day he was going to be glued to a wheelchair with a fucking diaper and feeding tube. How could Jongin love a vegetable? It wasn’t fair. To either of them. He knocked over his paint, flinging his brushes down, tears staining his face as he groaned in his art studio.  
“What’s wrong?” Jongin demanded as he peeked in the studio from all the noise to find his boyfriend on the break of insanity.

“I don't want to think about how we could all be stardust.” Jongin gave him an incredulous look. He sounded crazy. He could hear Jongin’s silent confusion. “I don't want to think you're a shining star destined to blow up the blinding veil in my mind.” Supernova; both beautiful and dangerous. “I hate having to conceptualize my feelings in a limiting language. I hate how you leave your cosmic rays burnt in my memory.” Junmyeon’s hands were on his head as he bent down unable to hold it in. “I freaking hate how I am suspended in space for you and you’re gliding by like a fucking comet.”

Jongin crossed his arms, his brow tilting. “Junmyeon, calm down.”

“I can’t!” He said back fingers gripping his hair tightly, eyes squeezing shut. “I’m scared one day we’re going to explode and you’ll disappear into another galaxy. I can’t just get over you.”  
“Junmyeon.” Jongin said it more scoldingly. He came in finally as he bent down pulling Junmyeon to his chest. “Stop doing this to yourself. I told you, I am not leaving you-- no matter what.”

“You don’t know how hard it is! I took care of my mother when she was losing it. She couldn’t walk, feed herself, she pissed herself, vomited all the time-- she died slowly. Horribly. Humiliatingly.”

“Love,” Jongin’s soft voice pressed against his ear, his lips pressed against the space behind his ear. “You’re insulting me. You’re assuming my feelings are momentary. You’ve solidated a part of yourself in me. I can’t live without you-- through health and through sickness.”  
“Stop.” Junmyeon sobbed. “How is that fair to you?”

“Jun, I’m already in love with you. Whether you’re a exploding star or a handful of stardust, I love you. And I won’t let you know.”  
  
Junmyeon lost his ability to walk first. He knew it was coming. His legs twitched slowly, feeling numb for a while. Then one day, they gave in. He fell. And he didn’t get back up. The wheelchair Junmyeon hated as he painted his hand shaking madly.

He refused to let Jongin help him dress or use the bathroom. Instead he hired a nurse named Chanyeol who came happily each day with a sickening cheerful smile.

Jongin wasn’t happy about it but he knew Junmyeon was a prideful creature as many were. Junmyeon had stiff hands, he barely ate, and had trouble when he tried to eat. Sometimes it ws difficult to watch. Junmyeon would be painting and then his hand would stiffen up and he wouldn’t be able to move it.  
He would scream. He would cry.

And Jongin realized the star he had fallen in love with was on it’s way to it’s supernova. He was losing the man he loved. The galaxy was a cold and brutal place-- after all, a comestic ray was goregous but it’s radiation would kill you.  
“You should put him in a home. Soon, he won’t be able to do anything.” Chanyeol said one day and Jongin fired him.  
Junmyeon was upset about that.  
  
“Jongin, you look miserable. I make you miserable.” Junmyeon was laying on the bed not wanting to move. It was hard and it hurt. It was like all the bones in his body were suffering from aching and stiff joints.

“No,” Jongin said quickly. “You aren’t my misery. It’s my inability to help you.” He murmured.

“I warned you. Now I am suffocating you in my black diprivations as well.”  
  
Jongin thought it would be slow. He thought it would end and he would see the ending coming. But Junmyeon had always be unfair.

He had come into the bathroom one day asking Junmyeon did he need any help washing. The other had been quiet for a while now. Junmyeon was in the water but his neck was hanging back limp. Jongin froze, mouth ajar.

His eyes burned. There was a pill bottle on the ground empty. He moved quickly, grabbing Junmyeon shaking him.

No, no, no.

“Junmyeon!” Jongin broke and he was drowning. It was like water was being shoved down his lungs and no air could come soothe him. “Junmyeon! J-Junmyeon!” He shook him wildly. There was no pulse. No response. His star exploded.  
Death felt like ice whereas love had felt like warmth. He was cold. So cold, he couldn’t breathe. It was like it was just them for a while. Junmyeon’s body losing it’s warmth and Jongin sobbing into his chest. The world had stopped. When someone close to you dies, you might experience a variety of emotions, including shock, disbelief, numbness, sadness, anger or loneliness. But Jongin couldn’t feel when he dialed the police.

How could he when his heart had been yanked from him?

 

Junmyeon’s sister was pretty. She looked just like her brother. She dabbed her eyes with the tissue sitting on the sofa Jongin had first kissed Junmyeon on.

“I suppose he always hated me.” She said, sniffling, “Our mom had the gene. We knew we could possibly get it. I knew he hated me for not having it. But he was only twenty-four. I thought his life would be longer.”  
Jongin didn’t say anything. He didn’t have anything to say. Where had she been when Junmyeon was suffering? She suddenly appeared now?

“I know why he did it. Suicide is less humiliating than to lose the ability to do anything. He didn’t want you to go through what we did when our mother died.” She inhaled.

“And why weren’t you in his life?” Jongin demanded, “Don’t you think something might have been different if he hadn’t been alone? He wouldn’t talk to me. He didn’t say anything. He just cried and cried-- I woke up so many nights with him drowning on his own tears. Where the fuck were you?”

Her eyes had widened and more tears spilled down the same eyes Jongin had fallen in love with. He wasn’t seeing Junmyeon’s sister he was seeing his lover.

“I couldn’t do it twice!” She said standing, “I couldn’t deal with it! I saw what it did to my mother. I wanted to pretend like my brother wasn’t going to die to o!I’m sorry-- I shouldn’t have come.”

She got up wiping her eyes and she left.

 

Jongin always wondered how people dealt with it. He supposed you never truly did. He would wake up some days and he would look over to kiss Junmyeon good morning and he wouldn’t be there. It was like ice being thrown on him-- he would cry and choke and the weight on his chest never left.

 

The tan body laid there. His eyes were full of unfallen tears and his face frozen in awe. His heart had long since stopped beating and he laid as if when the fading light came there was a hand reaching through that light pulling him through the galaxy and back into the orbit of his star’s embrace. After all, Jongin had been told when a star exploded it’s dust created the building blocks of what made humans. Forget Jesus, stars had died so you could live.

He joined Junmyeon in a galaxy of their own, the gun tumbled from his limp hand.

 

 


End file.
